


Belligerent

by loversarcana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Drabble, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 01:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10205954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loversarcana/pseuds/loversarcana
Summary: Lavellan celebrates with her party after killing a dragon, and they realize quickly that the only one who can convince her to go to bed after drinking too much is a certain elven apostate





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to be a really short drabble for tumblr and kinda got too long lmao

“Ah, Mr. Apostate-Hobo-Chic,” Dorian’s voice called from the entrance to the rotunda. “I need a word.”

He sauntered into Solas’s mural room, an uncharacteristic wobble in his step. The elf was examining an artifact at his desk, frown etched in place at the pet name.

“Dorian,” He acknowledged the man with a firm nod but continued to trace the engraved stone glyphs with his finger. Dorian slammed his hand onto the desk, covering part of the tablet. He threw his weight on it and waited.

“Yes?” Solas said, cocking his head with false interest and turning his gaze to Dorian. The man smiled at him.

“You must come to the tavern, I’m afraid. The Inquisitor is in dire need of a chaperone. To bed. Well, not like that, unless, of course, you know. That’s what she wants,” Dorian clarified, a certain clumsiness to his words that told Solas he’d also been drinking. “She’s had far too much of Bull’s mystery brew and refuses to listen to reason. You, I presume, are reasonable enough to talk some sense into her. She needs rest now, the day has been long.”

Solas shook his head with a slight smirk.

“You presume much, Dorian. I’m sure Elora does not desire a babysitter, especially not me,” he said, and gestured to the artifact. “If you don’t mind, I have some important work to finish.”

Dorian’s palm stood resolute against the desk.

“She’s quite far gone this time. I believe your presence would be best. In fact, I insist. Must I wager a deal? Perhaps I could smuggle in some books full of scandalous Tevinter secrets to aid in your research? I could even stop ‘accidentally’ throwing miscellanea off the balcony? Actually, that’s a lie, I’m not going to do that. But I _could_ let you borrow some of my incredibly fashionable clothes? Trust me, ‘tis something I don’t offer lightly!”

Solas massaged his temples for a moment, then stood up, grabbing one of his furs and tossing it over his shoulder.

“That won’t be necessary. Very well, if it’s serious, I suppose I can come check on her,” He gave Dorian a wry smile.

\---

“You’re welcome!” Dorian announced as they entered the tavern.

Elora gasped, the small elven woman nearly leaping out of her seat.

“Vhena - aaaan!” She cried as she hurtled toward Solas at high speed. He caught her in his arms, unable to suppress a small laugh. She was quite disheveled.

“Elora, what’s this I hear about you being belligerent?” He asked with a smirk, and she gasped, a comically surprised expression on her face.

“Not me! Who-o told you that?” she asked, giggling. Her face glowed with drink and mischief. “My love, my _hahren_ ,” she cooed, squeezing him and pressing her face against his chest. Solas cringed at the endearment, but eased into her embrace. Elora leaned hard on him, arms clutching sloppily at his back like he was the only thing keeping her upright. He probably was. Dorian made a gagging noise and walked over to their table.

Vivienne was still seated, laughing at something Bull had said. Her upright posture clashed starkly with Bull’s hulking upper body sprawled across the table. She greeted Dorian as he sat down, pouring him a glass of red wine from an expensive-looking bottle.

“Thank you for that, Dorian, darling. Maker knows our Inquisitor will need help getting back to her quarters tonight, and of course that sorry apostate is the only one she’ll listen to,” Vivienne mused, glancing over at the couple in question. “Ah well, if it makes her happy.”

“Of course, it was the only logical option,” Dorian said. “I would have suggested Bull take her, but at this point he probably would drop her before they made it.”

“You know I can hear you, Vint,” Bull growled with a grin. Dorian patted him on the arm.

“I wouldn’t question your strength, you great brute, but your reflexes at this point in the night are questionable. Just look at her, she can hardly stand!” He gestured toward the couple.

“I can’ believe you missed it, Solas” Elora continued, still hanging off of him. “A DRAGON! We killed a dragon! Me ‘n Bull ‘n Viv ‘n Dorian!”

Solas could smell the acrid stench of alcohol on her breath, something far more potent than he’d ever observed before. It smelled almost elemental in nature, like poison ripped from the earth itself.

“Ah, so to celebrate you decided to partake from a Qunari-made brews?” Solas asked, grabbing her hands and deftly twisting her around. He guided her toward the table where the rest of her friends were waiting.

“Yes! Th’ first sip numbs your taste buds on the way down,” She explained, finding herself at a chair and sitting in it. Solas pulled up a chair of his own, slinging the fur over it.

Bull pushed a cup of the unknown liquid toward Solas, tapping his hand against the table impatiently.

“C’mon, you smug little asshole, have a drink with us! Our Inquisitor just killed a Dragon! It was absolutely beautiful,” Bull said, ruffling the Inquisitor’s already messy hair. She ran a hand through it, attempting to smooth the short strands, sticking her tongue out at him.

“I’m afraid I must decline, Iron Bull. The Inquisitor has had enough tonight for the both of us,” Solas said with a pointed look.

“True, true,” Bull replied, taking another swig.

“And my dear, you’ve made so much progress as a Knight Enchanter,” Vivienne cut in, moving Elora’s half-empty tankard slightly out of reach with a glowing smile. Solas shot her a grateful look, and she nodded at him before continuing. “Your skills are as prolific as they are erratic, and I mean that as a compliment, darling.”

Bull looked around at the table at her comment, stunned.

“Wait a second, how did I end up drinking with four apostate mages? I’ve really hit rock bottom – ow!” He broke off, rubbing his arm in the place where Dorian had pinched him.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Dorian asked.

“Nothing, I guess,” Bull said with a snort.

Solas made eye contact with Vivienne, who flicked her gaze to the Inquisitor. "It's time," she mouthed as the Herald of Andraste slumped across the table, gazing blearily at her companions as she reached toward her tankard.

“Vhenan,” Solas tested, his hand settling at her lower back, “it might be time to say goodnight to our friends. Let’s go to bed, you need your rest.”

"Solas, I - wait," She stopped mid-protest, slumping up, turning to meet his gaze with wide eyes.

“Did you say the words ‘let’s’ and ‘bed’ at the same time?”

This produced a ripple of cackles from the surrounding company, and now it was Solas’s turn to flush red. He collected himself, an idea forming.

“I did. Perhaps if you’ll follow me, you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

Elora stood up, stared at him in momentary disbelief, then slowly turned her head to the rest of the group.

“I guess... m' going to bed.”

\---

The trek to Inquisitor Lavellan’s quarters was nearly as treacherous as the last few missions Solas had been on with her. He’d had to carry her piggy-back across the courtyard while diverting their route away from those who would judge her for inebriation, as well as avoiding gossips who already questioned their relationship.

“Fenhedis,” he hissed under his breath, hitching her legs up to adjust her position on his back. Her head rested heavily against his shoulder, hot puffs of breath tickled his neck. He shivered at the feel of it, but kept moving.

Upon reaching her quarters, he lowered her into the lavish Orlesian bed. She had passed out on the walk, he realized. Her eyes were fluttering, already dreaming, her chest rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. He carefully removed her armor, leaving her in her undergarments, and tucked her into the blankets.

She was so beautiful, even with the Vallaslin, He brushed her bangs aside and cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. If only he could free her from those awful markings - though he knew she would did not see them as such.

“Ar Lath Ma,” he whispered, something he could never tell her in waking. He muttered a spell for healing sleep, hoping it would bring her comfort come tomorrow. It was good she wouldn’t remember his words in the morning – he could hardly resist her advances as is, and he wouldn’t allow himself to take advantage of her. Not like he was, a liar, unworthy of love.

He held her face a moment longer. Her lips were slightly cracked from the desert heat, liquor and laughter, but it didn't matter. In this moment, for now, she was his. He gave her a soft kiss, then left her in peace.

That would have to be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! :D follow me on tumblr or twitter @mamudoons


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